Double Negative
by Life's Crash Test Dummy
Summary: He can't keep going through the motions especially if she's just going to go off and do this exact same thing with Carter and none of it means anything to her. /Nickelly/ Birthday-Fic for Creatively Licensed B


**Title:** Double Negative

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing related to Make It or Break It, though I've practically adopted Nicky Russo since they pretty much tossed him out like a poor trash baby.

**Spoilers: **The New Normal

**Dedication: **I basically write novels, lie and call them oneshots. This monster has been sitting on my desktop since Jan. I meant to finish it Pre-Feb 23, but I suck. I've been slowly adding little by little and now it's finished. It's mostly for Creatively Licensed B, my awesome co-author of LLD as a super belated birthday present. Does everyone know how B and I met? She used to leave me creepy certified stalker PMs and now I love her like family and to showcase that, I wrote this.

**Dedication2: **For all the Nickelly shipping hearts I broke in LLD, I'm pretty sure this doesn't make up for all that depression, but at least I tried. For you.

**Note:** While reading, keep in mind that Kelly and Nicky don't follow the LLD backstory (gasp!) and basically the first time they ever really met was when he fled the Rock and ended up at Denver Elite. Read and review please!

* * *

**Double Negative**

**I. **

_Hands down_  
_ I'm too proud, for love_  
_ But with eyes shut_  
_ It's you I'm thinking of_

Denver Elite is the strangest of strange worlds and Nicky Russo hates it.

His pride drove him to Denver, where he's supposed to be able to knuckle down and train. He isn't supposed to get caught up in the political side of gymnastics, but with Denver's bid to host the 2018 Summer Olympics, it seems to be all anyone cares about. That's largely why he considers switching gyms yet again, but if he's being honest, it isn't the only reason.

For one, who does Carter Anderson think he is? Leaving the Rock and training in Denver is _Nicky's thing_. What makes Carter think he can do the same? An unimaginative imitation at best. The only thing more disgusting is the way everyone who hated Nicky the second he walked in through the front door welcomes Carter with open arms.

After the first fourteen days (Nicky counts) it seems Carter is here to stay and he hates that. Nicky hates having to see Carter around, effortlessly getting everyone to like him. He hates Carter hogging the rings and the way he makes it more showing off than practicing. Most of all, on the off chance that he's honest with himself, Nicky hates how Kelly Parker responds.

When she isn't bitching someone out or perfecting a move for her comeback, Kelly is across the gym with the fuzz head like she has plans (when does she not?) and she's giggling and _flirting_. There's something so wrong about that. He knows it must be some scheme of hers and Carter is just a pawn in one of the many games she plays with the Rock girls, but still, having to see it and _hear it_ when he should be training is annoying.

Nicky is bothered for mainly three reasons:

1) Of all people, it's Carter Anderson. That should be reason enough.

2) When first showing up in Denver, out of the blue, Kelly Parker had been a little threatened but also enamored by indifferent, standoffish Nicky Russo and it was nice to have a girl interested in him for a change and not the other way around. Now with Carter here, it seems Kelly has moved on to the newest toy to be tossed into her toy box, a Ken doll that accidently fell into an incinerator instead of a cold, broken robot.

And

3) Again, it's Carter Nasty Anderson. Gross.

The reason for Nicky's (irrational) irritation is definitely _not_ because:

4) He's jealous or whatever. The idea alone is ridiculous.

And especially not:

5) He might actually _like_ Kelly Parker.

Not only is that last one completely implausible, but it's scary too. It means he should get his head checked, probably fell from the bars one too many times.

His firm belief that it can't be 4 or 5 leads to another question: _so why is he fucking her?_

And this is the part where things get…complicated, for the lack of a better word. He likes to try to convince himself that it's for purely shallow reasons, that she's willing to put out and he's a guy so he isn't going to turn her away, but he's always been a logical guy and logically, it means there's more to it and though Nicky doesn't want to investigate this 'more' he's also always been a thinker so it refuses to leave him alone.

Theirs is a physical relationship based on gratification and they both made this clear early on, but there's always been an unspoken understanding. Kelly Parker is a slave to her impulse to win and Nicky is a slave to his fate to fall for winners and they've both succeeded in ways just to fall short. They both know what it's like to be second best so in a way, they don't just relate to one another physically, but emotionally too, even if they aren't willing to admit it to themselves. God forbid each other. Out of the question aloud.

"So…you and Carter seem…close."

It's the end of the day and Denver Elite is mostly empty. Marty is in one of his moods because he just wants to go home, maybe stop by a strip club beforehand, end his day on a high half-naked and aroused note, but Kelly insists on putting in extra hours and as long as no one's going to kick him out, Nicky is going to train.

He ambushes her right as she comes out of the girls' locker room, done for the day and ready to head home. Nicky has learned it's always better to take someone by surprise than be taken by surprise.

Kelly Parker is a queen when it comes to confrontations of this nature. She doesn't react with stutters or says what first comes to her mind. Instead, she narrows her eyes, gives him a sweeping look and somehow takes control of the situation, using the silence to make _him_ squirm first. Nicky squares his shoulders, trying to make it seem like he knows what he's doing even if he has no clue.

"What of it?" Her reply is as simple as that. Rolling her eyes, Kelly brushes past him and on her way she makes sure that her shoulder collides with his in the most painful way possible.

Staring at her retreating figure, her hips always swaggering confidently, Nicky tries to control his building anger. That's all she has for him? _What of it_? That doesn't even mean anything. All it does is further upset him.

"That's all you have to say?"

"Yes. It is. And why do I have to explain myself to you anyways? Hmm, what's that I hear?" she says, turning to send him a look from over her shoulder, her shiny hair fanning out across her shoulders. Nicky shuffles a bit, resisting the sudden impulse to touch it and touch her. "Nicholas Russo, are you _jealous_?"

For a second he thinks she's doing it solely for him, to torture him, but Nicky knows she wouldn't allow him to be so arrogant. It probably has something to do with the Rock girls, knowing Carter's connection to them, knowing how he hooked and reeled in their hearts once. Kelly is yanking Carter and knowing the ripple affect, hoping it tears through the so-called rebels. It's just what Kelly Parker does.

"Nothing to be jealous of," Nicky says. He really wants to tell her _you mean nothing_, but does he really mean it? Shoving his hands into his pockets, he adds, "So you just have a thing for Rock Girl sloppy seconds, huh?"

"Well, that's what you are, aren't you? Rock Girl sloppy seconds."

"Yeah, I guess so. Seems you have a type," Nicky snorts, "It's a real testament to your level of taste."

"Don't be rude, Russo," she says. "Taste has nothing to do with politics."

Bingo. He knew it this entire time. Or at least he prepared himself to hear it, but does she mean it? Is that all they'd been? Sex and politics?

Instead of waiting to hear an answer, Nicky just scowls and turns his back on her.

After a hot shower, Nicky walks out of the locker room and she's gone. Not like he expected her to be waiting. A part of him did half-expect her to barge in to the boys locker room to put a wounded animal out of its misery, but he only half-expected it as to not be taken by surprise. Now everyone seems to be gone. He walks out the front doors just to be roughly grabbed by the arm. Nicky jumps, almost yells, but then he recognizes Kelly's laughter.

"What are you still doing here?" Nicky asks. And he means: _stop laughing at me. Shut up._

"I told Marty that you and I had some unfinished business and he told me to lock up once you finished powdering your nose, jacking off, whatever took you so long in there," she explains once her laughter subsides. Kelly shows him the set of keys dangling from her fingers.

Nicky's dark brows knit together with disbelief. "Marty gave _you_ the keys to the gym?"

"Don't sound so surprised." It's almost like she catches the way she's actually smiling at him and switches it off, going back to her usual air of detachment. "Plus, I'm always the first to show up in the morning and last to leave at night. Marty was feeling like shit and he trusts me. Why? Is it so unimaginable that someone actually trusts me?"

"Yes," Nicky says plainly. "Because you can't not abuse the power you're given."

Kelly smirks. It's different from a smile. Payson Keeler smiled, really smiled that night in California when Nicky kissed her for the first time. Kaylie smiled at him when he used his pointer fingers as makeshift horns in their collaborative bullfighter routine. That expression on Kelly's face doesn't resemble the ones in his memories, not in the slightest.

"Smart boy," Kelly coos, "But that's a double negative."

"_We_ are a double negative," Nicky says, motioning between them. "So it only seems fit."

"Have you ever talked like a normal human being before? Whatever. C'mon."

"What?"

"Don't make me say it twice, Nick."

He's sure made stupid decisions in the past, especially ones involving cortisone, but sometimes Kelly Parker feels just as much a drug and just as dangerous and leads him to make just as bad decisions. Seconds after he follows her inside, Kelly shoves him in the chest. No matter how hard he tries to prepare himself for the things she does, she catches him off-guard all the time.

The nearest wall is hard against his back, but her lips are soft against his. Without realizing it or even thinking about it, he responds like it's an automatic reflex. His hands move to her hips and his fingers glide along the skin at her waist, exposed from the way she has to tiptoe to reach his mouth. Her skin is warn and supple, the aftermath of a hot shower, much like how his hair is still moist as she runs her fingertips through it. The entire time, their lips part once for a quick breath before her tongue teases his.

To Nicky every time they kiss it feels like the popular girl choosing the geek and he hates that comparison because he isn't supposed to care, but when it comes to her, he does. A Lot. So much that he can't just keep going through the motions especially if she's going to go off and do this exact same thing with Carter and none of it means anything to her.

"So," he says. His hands press her downward until her feet are flat on the ground, their lips aren't together and her flustered face looks up at him with confusion. "Did you get this far with Carter?"

Nicky watches the appall flash in her dark eyes. She slams her fist against his chest and it's too quick for him to anticipate, making Nicky groan.

"That's a really shitty thing to say when we're making out."

"And that's supposed to be my answer?" Nicky asks. He gives her a little shove so he's no longer wedged between her and the wall. "This is how I see things going. Carter has Syphilis. He gives it to you. You give it to me. I need to go to a clinic for antibiotics. That is not what I signed on for."

"Jesus, Russo, you're such a girl."

"Right, because your masculine energy is enough to fill the entire gym."

"What the hell is this really about?" Kelly asks. "You're jealous of Carter? Is that what you're trying to tell me? Because I'm not dating you…but I'm not hooking up with him either."

"But you are using him," Nicky says.

"Call it what you want," she snaps, "Carter and I aren't having sex. Up until you cockblocked yourself you and me were about to."

"Why are we even here?" Nicky asks. His frustration shows on his face and that much is clear even with the dim lighting of the nearly empty gym. "I don't do this. Especially with people like you."

"People like me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know who you are."

Kelly raises her brows and says, "I wasn't aware that was a bad thing."

"The way you are isn't what I have a problem with," Nicky says. That part is already hard to admit so he doesn't know how he's going to get out the next bit. In a much lower voice, he says, "It's…it's how much I…like it."

Kelly looks cockier than normal as she corners him yet again. "Aww, Russo, is this your backwards freak way of telling me _you like me_?"

She grabs his hand and guides it up over her breasts, but then Nicky moves his hand further up and over her heart. He doesn't know how to ask for it or what to do with it if she ever gave it to him, but he's pretty sure if there's anything to be learned from his jealousy of Carter it's that he could quit possibly want it. Nicky Russo wants Kelly Parker's heart.

She must understand the symbolic gesture because Kelly shoves his hand away and disgustedly hisses, "Don't convince yourself you want something you can't have."

"Don't convince yourself I won't," he says, trailing his fingers lightly over her cheek and down the column of her neck. My how the tables have turned. Now it's her backing away and him edging closer. "Because I can. I think I've proven that."

"Not when it comes to gymnastics. If I remember right you thought you'd leave Nationals with gold and, well, that didn't happen, did it?" she says, mockingly sympathetic. "Hate to break it to you, but gymnastics is the only place it counts. Everything else is inferior. You need to man up, forget all your stupid fantasies and straighten out your shit or I guarantee you'll get left behind."

Apparently, he really spooked her with that because Kelly doesn't try to pick up where they left off. She just walks to the door and hollers for him to get out so she can lock up and then they leave in separate cars.

The encounter leads Nicky to question what he was even thinking when concluding that he must want her. Must have been all the adrenalin and endorphins. Must be exactly what happened with the other two girls in Boulder. Nicky sits a while in the empty parking lot and decides he doesn't have to be here to deal with her bullshit or deal with seeing Carter or the politics or any of it. He can run like he did from Boulder, but maybe farther this time.

The next day, Nicky gives Marty his two weeks notice; his sights set on NYC Elite.

Two hours later, he gets a text from Kelly.

_Marty says you're leaving. Wtf, Russo? _

_I'm doing what you said. Man up, remember?_

Kelly doesn't text back and Nicky thinks it's for the best.

...

**II. **

_But how we move from A to B it can't be up to me  
Cause I don't know  
Eye to eye  
Thigh to Thigh  
I let go_

She shows up on his doorstep two nights before he leaves for New York and says it'll be like break-up sex without the breaking up since they were never together. He's cautious now, convincing himself that it isn't about her specifically. He just misses contact with anyone at all and a warm body in his bed might be nice so he steps aside and lets her in.

They take it slower than the fervent urgency of their first hookup, savoring each touch because it really is the last. The intensity and finality of it scares Kelly, Nicky can sense it as he's hovering over her in his bed, but he tries not to think about what that means. If he does and he reads too much into it like he always does with girls, he could fuck up his future with NYC Elite after he already fucked things up with Denver Elite and the Rock before that. He knows Kelly would never throw her future away for him so he shouldn't for her.

"Why New York?" Kelly asks in the dark afterwards. Just as Nicky's heart beat returns to a normal pace and he's ready to drift asleep, her voice snaps him back.

"Because it's far," he answers.

"From me." She says it more like a statement than a question and after hearing it, Nicky's even more awake. He turns onto his side and tries to make out the features of her face in the dark.

"From everything," Nicky says. "I don't know what I was thinking, like moving forty-five minutes away from Boulder was going to magically make everything better. I need to clear my head of everything Colorado. I'm not naïve enough to think distance is going to fix everything, but it's better than being here, stuck. Does that make sense?"

"Whatever," Kelly says dismissively. "Just know…having sex with Carter isn't and wasn't ever apart of the plan. Every little thing he does is in spite of Lauren Tanner when he should be concentrating on his competition, you know, _the men_. It helps me so I have no grounds to complain, but it isn't about gymnastics for him. It's his, I don't know, pathetic attempt to get even with her for breaking up with him? It's sad is what it really is."

"Um, why are you telling me about Carter?"

"If he didn't show up to train in Denver, would you still be going to New York?"

The thought never crossed Nicky before so he lies there and ponders. After giving it some thought, a minute at least, he answers, "Maybe."

"Maybe? That's all you're going to say?"

"Yes. It is." Nicky smirks in the dark and she must know because Kelly scowls. He wonders why she's still here, in his bed, actually talking to him instead of laughingly thanking him for the orgasm and leaving right after like she usually does. "So…are you going to, like, go home?"

"Fuck off. I'm trying to sleep," she says. It probably registers with her that this is his house and he can kick her out any second, but Kelly doesn't seem to care. It's not like he would even if he wanted to. Though she often drives him to entertain his most carnal impulses, Nicky is still enough of a gentleman to not lay a hand on her or toss her out.

"Your parents aren't going to freak out if you don't go home?"

She turns onto her side and faces him, the sheets sliding down her, just enough to show some cleavage, but for her to not actually be full frontally exposed. Still, it automatically draws his eyes. Knowing he's staring but choosing to ignore it, Kelly asks, "What about your parents? Are they going to freak out if they catch us in bed together?"

"No. I have to take a taxi to the airport myself," Nicky explains. "My dad isn't around much."

"Same here."

He walked straight into that one. Nicky notices that she does this a lot. She anticipates before she says anything and then leads the conversation in a direction that doesn't force her to explain herself. Nicky envies that, but it also goes to show how painfully guarded she is.

There are things he wants to ask her. After all, it should be a universal rule that you know at least basic information of the person you're sleeping with, but it doesn't seem to matter anymore because this was the last time. This affair of theirs has gone on longer than it should have and now it's finally over so he decides it's probably better to leave it as is.

Nicky just turns onto his side, away from her, and tries to get some sleep.

...

**III. **

_I think I'm a little bit  
A little bit in love with you  
But only if you're a little bit  
Little bit  
Little bit  
In lalalala love with me_

Kelly calls him the night after the exhibition.

After getting ready for bed, she gets sidetracked when the light from lamp in her room catches the reflective plastic of the VIP passes dangling from the corner of her vanity mirror. Hers has her name neatly printed on it and there's a second meant for Nicky Russo.

When Kelly discretely asked Marty about it, he brushed it off, saying it didn't matter because Russo was gone. Kelly knows that deep down, for some time now, Marty secretly hoped the robot boy would reconsider and come back to Denver, if not to improve the Denver men's team then just because he genuinely misses him. A part of Kelly even holds out on the idea and maybe that's why she ends up calling him. He sounds so confused when he answers and that alone makes her smile.

"I used the Carter card."

Of course, she has to make the call about business, definitely not because she just wants to hear his voice.

"Ah. On which lucky Rock Rebel?"

"Tanner," Kelly answers. She sits back on her bed and stares down at the clear coat on her fingernails. She's trembling a bit and her throat seems so dry, but she ignores it, cradling the phone to her ear.

"Hmm, it sounds like you're getting a little predictable there, Parker."

"You think?" she challenges, a scowl caught in her throat. "Answer me this then. Why do you think I used it?"

Because Carter Anderson isn't a _he_, but an _it_. To be used and disposed of.

"Stupid girl drama," he guesses. "I don't know. She said you looked fat in your dress?"

"Please," Kelly actually scowls that time, sliding her legs beneath the sheets of her bed. "Fyi, I looked hot in my dress. You would have loved taking it off me."

She can't help, but tease. Then when she hears his shaky breath on the other end of the line, it stirs something within her and makes Kelly inwardly groan. Why the fuck does New York have to be so far?

"Wh—why?" he asks after a while. "If not that then what'd she do that set you off?"

He knows that she had bided her time, waited for the enemy to make the first attack so she could retaliate and crush them with the Carter card. Kelly's a little impressed and she knows she isn't predictable. He just knows her.

"Because she mentioned you leaving."

"…"

"And that our men's team sucks without you like you were our messiah or something and we needed you, which isn't true. At all."

Pulling her knees into chest and turning her hand into a fist, Kelly bites the knuckle of her pointer finger. She doesn't know why she couldn't just leave it there and let him pick up on the implication. That maybe she sort of could have a soft spot for him and Lauren Tanner probing it results in disastrous things for girls from Boulder.

Kelly knew that she'd use the spotlight to lure the Rock's resident attention whore into the game, but she hadn't been anticipating Lauren's first attack would be bringing up Nicky. Then Kelly crushed her with the Carter reveal for sure, but the fact that it was about Nicky and him leaving Denver took away from winning that battle. It made Kelly feel like a part of her was missing and so she set out to fill that emptiness with the satisfaction of true destruction. She set her sights on Payson and pulled the Sasha card.

"So, um, it went well then?" Nicky asks. "The exhibition?"

"It was whatever," Kelly says. "Same ol' same ol'. Rock Retards made fools of themselves, but then somehow pulled a save out of their huge asses. Happily ever after. Blah. Blah. Blah."

Kelly holds her breath. She wants to tell him that she wishes he was there, watching the stupid ugly ass leg warmer slip. She wanted him standing next to her, not Carter Anderson. For some reason, she can't. Metaphorical walls work both ways. They keep people out, but they keep her in too.

"Well, um, thanks…for keeping me updated," he says. "This was…unexpected."

"Yeah, whatever," Kelly says carelessly, sliding down into her bed.

"I should probably go…"

"Wait, I have a question for you…"

"What is it?"

Kelly smirks devilishly and asks, "How are you at phone sex?"

He makes this nervous little sound and it makes Kelly erupt with laughter.

"G—G'night, Kelly."

She doesn't say anything, ends the call and tosses her cell to the foot of her bed, still laughing.

...

**IV.**

_And for you I keep my legs apart  
And forget about my tainted heart  
And I will never ever be the first  
To say it's still a, Game over_

The second he's back in town it begins again. With the months that have gone by, talking in person is weird, but it isn't like they're known for having deep, meaningful talks. It's all about the muscle memory, the way she twists her fingers in his shirt as she drags him to his bed and how each time he touches her it's automatic and methodical like he's playing a melody on a musical instrument or solving a rubix cube.

Neither even tries to hide their wide, giddy smiles and in truth they'd probably be smiling at each other even without all the touching and the kissing and the clothes being stripped off. It seems insane to miss someone with such intensity when you can't even admit that you like the person, but the feeling is there and it's mutual.

Other than being the weekend of their big reunion, it has also taken the name: that super awkward time Kelly Parker met Nicky's dad.

It isn't like either of them planned on it happening. If Nicky ever had his dad meet a girl he'd probably want it to be, oh, one that actually liked him, and if Kelly knew Dr. Russo would choose that exact moment to come home, she probably would have wanted to be wearing more than one of Nicky's shirts and his boxers.

"So how's Carter?" Nicky asks. His expression doesn't darken with jealous as he says it and Kelly observes all of this through peripheral vision alone. They're in his kitchen, sitting at the table, eating breakfast.

"Don't know, don't care." Kelly snorts. Stabbing at the slices of fruit (that Nicky was nice enough to cut up for her without so much as a offhanded thanks after) with a fork, she asks, "So who's the ginger you're screwing?"

Faith Giancana.

The time Carter had tried to ask her out, like, on a real date, Kelly had irritably shooed him away, too busy looking through the photos uploaded to the NYC Elite Facebook page, most featuring Nicky and a redhead tagged by that name.

"What are you talking about?"

"NYC Elite. Redhead. Gymnast." Kelly taps her fingers against her thighs, hating how she sounds like a jealous girlfriend right now. She is so not. Doing what she always does, Kelly grits her teeth and continues, "Faith…something. I hear she's the east coast's best. Should I be worried?"

"Oh, Faith. Faith Giancana?" The name registers and then Nicky nods his head. "Depends. Would you be worried if I told you she could do a Yurchenko with the most clean, perfect preflight twist I've ever seen?"

Kelly pales. That's quite a compliment coming from Nicky. "Shut up. That's such bs. You're just trying to psyche me out."

"I swear," Nicky says, placing his hand on his bare chest, over his heart. "I videotaped it and she put it on YouTube. I'd tell you to see it for yourself, but it's gone now. Wow, I've never seen a coach yell at a gymnast like Abram did when he told her to take it down. Not even when Marty caught us making out that one time in the weight room."

"My ears are _still_ ringing from that one," Kelly says despite her smile. "So was it Payson Keeler all over again? Seriously, Russo, keep pulling this shit and you're going to run out of gyms to run to. Where to next, the Dallas club?"

"No, it's not like that with Faith," he says. "We've been friends since we were kids. No romantic feelings whatsoever. Faith calls herself my 'life coach' and apparently New York is 'rehab for my heart.' She's the first—the only—girl I can hang out with without falling for and I'm trying to figure out why that is and how to make that work with everyone else."

"So isn't this," Kelly says, motioning between them, "You relapsing."

"No," Nicky scowls, stirring his spoon around in his cereal bowl. "Who said I fell for you?"

"You just did."

Nicky embarrassedly, indifferently looks away and Kelly just grins, using her teeth to slide the piece of fruit off the fork and into her mouth. Fumbling, Nicky murmurs, "I meant…"

"Don't even bother trying," she warns, enjoying this more than she should. "You, like, freaking put your hand over my heart. Uh-huh. Don't think I forgot, you big sappy weirdo." Kelly laughs. Nicky glares, ready to tell her to get out no matter how good she looks in his clothes. When she catches the way he's looking at her, Kelly laughs again. "Aww, are you pouting?"

"No."

"Nick, you are _so_ pouting."

Kelly reaches out over the table and her fingers glide along the inside of his cereal bowl. She plucks out a piece and throws it at him, giggling. Nicky then reaches out for the cereal box and holds it up over her head, shaking it so the pieces fall out, clinging to her loose hair. Kelly shrieks and tries to get away, but when she stands, Nicky matches her movement, rounding his arm around her waist as he continues to make it rain cereal. It surprises him that she's laughing instead of bitching and he just laughs along.

"What is going on here?"

Nicky stops and lets his arm slide out from around Kelly when he looks to the doorway and sees his father, the great Dr. Russo, in the doorway. The older man's eyes are wide as he looks from Nicky, who's only wearing a pair of baggy sweatpants to Kelly, only wearing Nicky's shirt and plaid boxers, down to the cereal all over the place and then back to his shirtless son.

"Dad?" It comes out as a question because that's what it is. "Umm, what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same," Dr. Russo responds. Nicky hasn't seen his dad show this much emotion in so long. Too bad that emotion is beyond pissed.

"Hi," Kelly speaks up before Nicky can even think of a way to handle this. She lifts her hand in a sort of wave, before returning her arms to her sides. "I'm Kelly Parker, Nicky's girlfriend."

Dr. Russo looks stunned. Nicky himself looks like he's ready to have a heart attack. Did she really just say that?

"Parker," Dr. Russo muses over her last name, because, really, that's the shocking part, not the fact that Kelly Fucking Parker just used the g-word without an eye roll, sarcasm or barfing. "Any relation to a Dr. Richard Parker, Chief Resident at St. George Hospital?"

"That's my dad," Kelly says. With her chin tilted down to the ground, but her eyes on Dr. Russo, Nicky thinks that's the shiest he's ever seen Kelly Parker.

"You don't say," Dr. Russo murmurs, probably trying to think of a way to slip the fact that their kids are _dating_ into conversation in the break room. "Well, I work at St. George, head of neurosurgery. Dr. Michael Russo. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You too," Kelly says politely. Dr. Russo seems to relax and Kelly sits back down in her seat, crossing her legs beneath the table. She glances over at Nicky and beams, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable he is.

"I'm sorry to say my son has never mentioned having a girlfriend, especially here in Denver," Dr. Russo says, giving Nicky a pointed look.

Kelly giggles. "Aww. Is he not allowed to date? Nick, you never said anything."

"It's not that. I just never thought he had anyone _to _date." Dr. Russo and Kelly share a laugh at that and Nicky shrinks down in his seat. At the mention of her last name, his dad glossed over the fact that they're clearly having sex in his house when he isn't there. It really shows where his priorities are. "So, Nicholas, if you have a girlfriend and an actual life, it seems, here why did you think it necessary to go all the way to New York?"

"Dad…"

"Nick was tired of me hogging all the spotlight at Denver Elite," Kelly says, giving Dr. Russo a wink. She then settles her elbow on Nicky's shoulder and plays with his hair. "I agree it was a little dramatic to move all the way out east, but the long distance thing is working for us. Less distractions. More gymnastics."

"Well, that's good. Telling your own father would have been nice, Nicholas, but fine, as long as you're happy," Dr. Russo says. "I just came by for a few files I left in the office and then it's back to the hospital. Oh and I picked up your suit for the wedding. It's hanging in your bedroom."

"Thanks," Nicky says gruffly.

"Have you invited Kelly? I could easily call Pete and Ella and let them know. I'm sure your aunt and the soon-to-be third husband wouldn't mind."

Mid-sip, Nicky nearly spits out his orange juice. Does his dad really have to take an awkward moment and insist on making it even more awkward?

"I'd love to," Kelly says brightly. Beside her, Nicky's eyes go wide and his mouth falls open.

"You would?" Nicky asks.

"Absolutely," she says sweetly. "I already have the perfect outfit."

"Excellent," Dr. Russo says. His phone starts ringing and without even checking the ID, he says he needs to take it, walking into the next room. They sit there, Kelly still picking cereal out of her hair and Nicky straining to hear his father's fading voice as he presumably goes to his office.

"You didn't have to do that," Nicky tells her once he's sure his father is out of earshot.

"Yes I did," Kelly says. "Did you want your dad to have it in his head that Richard Parker's daughter is your bootycall? Worst-case scenario, it'd somehow get back to my dad and if he doesn't already think I'm a lost cause he will then. See. It's just easier this way."

"Do you always do this?"

"Do what?"

"Manipulate everything and everyone so you get your way," Nicky says.

"When your last name is Parker it's necessary. You have no idea how many speeding tickets I've gotten out of without a single fake tear. Just incase you or a loved one ends up on an operating table you don't want the guy with the scalpel to be the father of the rich little elitist you pissed off by sending her to traffic court." Kelly smirks. "Don't hate the player, Nick. Hate the game."

Nicky scoffs and looks down at his cereal that is now a pile of mush. After a moment of silence, he looks over at Kelly with a teasing little smile. "So you're my girlfriend now? I guess the hand over the heart move worked."

Mid-bite, Kelly places the fork back down and glares at Nicky. She swipes her hand against the edge of the table, picking up bits of the cereal (that Dr. Russo didn't even comment on) and throws it at Nicky who just laughs in return.

"We got off easy, didn't we?" Kelly asks. "How fucked would we have been if it were your mom who walked in instead of your dad?"

Nicky suddenly turns so solemn. "Can't really tell you. She, uh, she died when I was young."

Kelly Parker is seldom speechless, but this time she is. Nicky can't blame her for not knowing what to say and he doesn't call her out on it. Instead, he says, "You know, you don't have to come to the wedding. It's the reason I'm back here, but I don't even want to go. I can just tell dad you suddenly came down with the flu or something."

"No. I like weddings. It is the last legal form of slavery and that's cool. If anything should be celebrated it's that," Kelly says with a shrug of her shoulders. She starts eating again and with both hands bracing the edge of the table, Nicky goes back to staring at what was once cereal, trying to make sense of the last few minutes.

Then he feels her hand over his. If she's aware she's doing it, her face doesn't show it as she goes on eating. She doesn't squeeze his hand comfortingly or try to lace their fingers or anything like that. Her hand just lingers over his, warm but not sweaty, and it's nice. It's nice to know touches can still be innocent.

When the wedding rolls around, Nicky feels he might be the one to try to use the flu excuse to get out of it, but then he picks up Kelly at her house and sees her in her dress. Nicky doesn't even feel bad about being late to the reception, even when his father scolds him about it, because making out with Kelly in his SUV was so worth it. She smells like a cupcake and tastes even better and the sound of her giggle, the warmth of her breath, it really does feel like relapsing in the best way.

There's this moment when the bride and the groom share their first dance where Kelly watches them and Nicky watches her. It could be the romantic lighting or the soft, soothing music, atmosphere playing tricks on his brain, making her seem different, but not actually be different. There's also the fact that she's putting on a show to appease his father and in turn secure her reputation, but in that moment she looks so enchanted and even hopeful, watching the happy couple. Nicky doesn't think she's ever been more beautiful to him.

When Dr. Russo gets a call and apparently there's an emergency at the hospital it doesn't surprise Nicky in the least. This always happens. With a charming smile, he says goodbye to Kelly and then goes to chat with the bride and groom before leaving.

Nicky hates how disappointed it makes him. He should be used to it. When Nicky catches Kelly staring at him, she seems sympathetic, but since it's Kelly Parker, it's probably more like pity. Feeling a need to explain himself, Nicky tells her, "It's hard. I get that when he's at work he's saving lives and that's amazing, but it still sucks that he isn't around…you know?"

Instead of rolling her eyes or scoffing like he half-expects her to, Kelly squeezes his hand and says, "I know exactly what that feels like."

It might be the first time Nicky has heard it and believed it. It also might be the first time Kelly Parker said it and meant it.

Scratching his fingers through his hair, Nicky asks, "Do you want to dance?"

Leaning towards him, Kelly replies, "I'd rather go make out in your car s'more."

"Deal."

When Kelly has that cheeky grin on her face, her fingers hooked through the belt loops of his slacks as she tugs him along and Nicky has his hand on the small of her back, guiding her out the ballroom doors, the last thing on his mind is his father or gymnastics or the fact that all his family members are watching them leave. It's all thoughts of Kelly Parker.

...

**V. **

_I would do it  
Push a button  
Pull a trigger  
Climb a mountain  
Jump off a cliff  
Cause you know baby I love you love you  
A little bit_

Nicky flies back to Denver for Christmas and it's a little because his dad insisted, but mostly because he wants to see her. Kelly and Nicky start talking on the phone and it's more than her latest run-in with the girls from the Rock (though there's a lot of that too) and it's more than gymnastics and business and politics. It's about _them_.

It turns out there's a Christmas dinner thing for the hospital and surprise, surprise Dr. Parker and Kelly are there. They do this big meet-and-greet thing while all the other hospital personnel and benefactors are mingling and there's Christmas music playing in the background. When they meet, Kelly's dad smiles and calls Nicky by name and it seems Kelly has fed him the same lie (though it's become less of a lie than before) that they're dating.

Richard Parker is charming and smooth, a real talker with a pearly white smile. The moment he walks into a room it's like he becomes the center of attention, the sun that everyone else is forced to orbit. It's easy to see where Kelly gets it. She lets Nicky hold her hand in public, but when some boring person is on stage making a boring speech and Nicky asks her if she wants to sneak off and go make out somewhere, she says no for the first time ever. Instead, she sits straight in her seat, laughing at the speaker's lame jokes. Like a good little girl. Not like Kelly at all.

Afterwards, Dr. Parker takes off, giving Nicky a firm handshake and a warning to get his daughter home safe. On the drive to her house, Kelly explains that her dad is going to Littleton to spend Christmas Eve with his girlfriend, who he won't let Kelly meet and surely won't marry. He claims to love the woman, but she doesn't live up to the image of a Parker and so she doesn't get invited to work or family functions.

Walking into her dark living room, Nicky clears his throat. "So your dad seems…"

"Fake," Kelly plugs in as she takes off her earrings. With a bitter laugh, she tosses them onto the end table and kicks off her heels. "I learned from the best."

"I was going to say nice," Nicky says, sitting down on the couch.

"He's a total prick."

"He's your dad."

"He hates me."

"He's proud of you."

"Whatever," she murmurs. "I hate sitting through bullshit dinners like that, listening to people kiss dad's ass. Oh, and you can bet I've told him, but what does he do? He threatens to take away my car or stop paying for my gymnastics if I don't do what he says. And everyone thinks I hold all the puppet strings? No. It's him. That prick."

"Well, when he pisses you off just remind yourself that my dad's worse," Nicky says. "I mean, the man flew me out here to whore us out to your dad."

"Whatever. Screw them. I don't want to talk about it," Kelly says. She plops down beside him and reaches for the remote control, trying to find something to distract herself on TV. "Ughh, all there is to watch is shitty Christmas movies."

"My favorite," Nicky says, reaching for the controller, for fear that she might hurt herself or break the TV with the way she's stabbing all those buttons with her fingertips. It stops on one of those stop motion animated classics when he finally wrestles it out of her hand.

Kelly presses close into his side and sighs as she undoes his tie and pulls it off for him. Nicky wants to kiss her, has since the second he saw her walk into the party, but he swallows the urge because he can still see that she's thinking about her dad and their issues and it doesn't seem like the most opportune time to be undressing her with his hands or his eyes. Instead, he just turns up the volume of the TV, sits back and puts his arm around her.

"I never did this as a kid," Nicky says. "I never sat around and watched Christmas specials. My dad always encouraged me to make gymnastics the most important thing. I guess it was to keep me busy so I wouldn't notice how he was always working…but I still did."

Nicky doesn't look at her and Kelly doesn't look at him. They both just stare at the TV.

"I always thought these things were stupid, still do, but…mom loved them," Kelly muses. Nicky freezes, realizing this is the first time she's ever mentioned her mother. "She lives in Florida now. Has a new family and everything. He couldn't blackmail her to stay and sometimes I think that's why he's even harder on me."

Frowning, Nicky watches the way the glow of the TV screen dances across her cheeks and Kelly doesn't dare look his way as she goes on, thinking aloud, it seems. "Sometimes I catch him looking at me…"

That grabs Nicky attention, sending a surge of anxiety through him. "What?"

"My dad," Kelly says softly, "Like, not in a pervy way. Christ, Nick, he's _my dad_, but…in a way that…that even though he says I live up to our family name and he couldn't ask for a better daughter, I can feel him wishing I was different, maybe more reserved and, well, less like him, things I can't help but be and I hate that."

Almost hesitantly, Nicky asks, "What are we doing here, Kelly?"

"We tell each other secrets in the dark, or, well, half-dark," Kelly responds, "It's our thing."

She snuggles closer to him and Nicky lazily runs his hand up and down her bare arm. Before he can stop himself, he says it, "My dad might always pay for the plane tickets insisting I be there to watch my aunt get married for a third time or for the hospital's stupid Christmas dinner…but, really, I came back here for you. I always do."

"But you won't come back to Denver Elite…"

"Kelly, you know I can't…"

"No, I think it's a good thing," she tells him without missing a beat.

Nicky blinks. "What? Why?"

Kelly bites the inside of her cheek and shifts, placing her hand on his chest, over his heart. "Because I'd crush it," she says, almost inaudibly, "It's the last thing I'd want, but I would."

Frowning a little, Nicky places his hand over hers over his heart.

"Merry Christmas, Kelly."

"Merry Christmas, Nick."

…

**VI. **

_I would do it  
You'd say it  
You'd mean it  
I would let you do it  
It was you and I and I only_

Summer 2012. It comes almost too soon.

"No. I should be mentally preparing for tomorrow not fooling around with you."

"Then why'd you agree to meet me, huh?"

"Because Austin and Max rigged it somehow and I ended up roommates with Carter and I'd much rather be fooling around with you than in there with your ex," Nicky says matter-of-factly. He has his arms crossed as he leans back against the wall right outside his room.

Her mouth forms a perfect 'o' to show her outrage as Kelly smacks him, "That is for being a liar. I _so_ know that's not the only reason," she smacks him again, "And that it for referring to Carter Anderson as my ex. He didn't even get to first base. He never even had a bat."

"Right," Nicky nods, "_Play thing_ would be more accurate, huh?"

Kelly hits him again. "No, that more accurately describes _you_."

When Kelly tries to hit him one more time, just for good measure, Nicky catches her arm and pulls her until her petite, toned body is flat up against him. She tries so hard to look disinterested and it makes Nicky smile, pressing a quick kiss to her jaw. It amazes the both of them that it's been two years now and they're still denying they're a couple even though they kind of are.

Nicky kisses her cheek and just as he pulls away, Kelly roughly grabs his chin and kisses him hard on the mouth. When they're about to go at it right there in the Olympic Village hallway, there's laughter and voices and footsteps growing closer so they quickly break apart. Nicky takes her hand in his and they duck into the room at the end of the hall that houses the ice dispenser and vending machines.

"Do you know how pissed Marty would be if he knew you weren't in your room right now?" Nicky asks. His mind gets a little hazy when they're close and now that they aren't attached at the lips, reality comes back into focus. "Or, worse, if he knew you were with me?"

"What?" Kelly says. Looking around their tight surroundings, she motions to the gigantic metal ice dispenser. "I just came to get some ice."

"In a completely different building?"

"I'm in a different country. That plane ride sucked," she snaps. "So I'm a little disoriented."

Nicky gives an amused chuckle, sliding down the wall until he's sitting on the ground and looking up at Kelly who's absentmindedly pressing the buttons of the soda machine. "You can talk your way out of just about anything, can't you?"

"It's a gift," Kelly says. When her fingers jump from the Coke button to the Diet button and no free soda cans come pouring out, Kelly gets bored and goes over to sit next to Nicky.

With his head tilted towards her, Nicky asks, "You scared?"

"Hell no."

He doesn't buy that for a second and so Nicky stretches his arm out and reaches for the light switch. He flicks it downward, shutting off the overhead light, leaving them with only the faint glow of the soda machine. He found it necessary. After all, they tell secrets in the half-dark.

"Just a little bit?" Nicky asks.

"Maybe…"

"Kel."

"Fine. More like terrified."

"Me too."

"Nick…"

"What?"

"Just know that…if you don't bring home gold for our country I'm never having sex with you ever again."

He laughs. "Yeah, we'll see how long that lasts."

"…"

"…"

"Nick, cut it out! What happened to mentally preparing for tomorrow, you know, the start of the Olympics?"

"Okay, I'm confused. If you didn't want to then what are we doing here?"

"I just…I just wanted to be with you. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Kelly."

"What?"

"I love you."

"…"

Before either of them can say anything else, the door swings open and light from the hall floods the room. Nicky and Kelly, crouched there on the ground, share a wince and immediately shield their eyes.

"Jesus. Russo. Parker. Here's an idea. Why don't you go get an actual room?"

"Tucker, get out of here!" Nicky yells.

"This isn't your room. It's the ice dispenser's room. I came to get some—"

"Austin, out!" Kelly shouts, pointing at him threateningly.

"What? You're both fully clothed. Just put it on pause. I just need some ic—"

"Out!" Nicky and Kelly shout in unison.

Clutching his empty ice bucket, Austin gives up and walks out, shutting the door behind him. That leaves Nicky and Kelly with the ice dispenser, the vending machines and the near complete darkness. It's quiet once Austin is gone and Nicky waits for Kelly to either run out after remembering what they were talking about or, God forbid, say it back.

Instead of choosing from those two expected options, Kelly slides her arms around his waist and rests her heard on his chest. "You don't have to freak out about tomorrow," Kelly says, choosing avoidance rather than confrontation for once. "I'm sure you'll do great."

"Yeah, you too."

The fact that she doesn't say it back doesn't stop Nicky from kissing the side of her head and playing with her hair, but it does bothers him to no end. He hates how he can hold her and be with her and finally see her heart, but then she'll do things like this that remind him that she still isn't completely his. Even worse, it's by choice and they both know it.

...

**VII.**

_Come here  
Stay with me  
Stroke me  
By the head  
Cause I would give anything  
Anything  
To have you as my man_

A week after getting back to New York City after the Olympics, Nicky is holed up in his apartment, drowning in self-pity.

The 2012 Summer Olympics in London was not kind to Nicky Russo. After the first three rounds, Nicky held a good position. The artist in him makes sure that he hates everything he does, but his scores were steadily consistent. Plus, parallel and horizontal bars were his areas of expertise, where he shines, not floor, pummel and rings. Then came a devastating fall on the vault. "Russo pulled a Hamm" had been a familiar teasing chant, around the Olympic Village and it only stung more when it took Kelly to tell them all to shut the fuck up.

Nicky worked hard on bars, but it wasn't enough. The Great Austin Tucker still took gold in the individual all-around. Nicky feeling like being an almost winner makes him the world's biggest loser.

As easy as it would be Nicky doesn't entirely let himself go. He does pull-ups in the doorway to his bedroom, his muscles needing the repetition and the pain. He jogs on his treadmill with the incline set to maximum and angry, rock music shaking the walls and annoying the neighbors. When he isn't ruminating and working out or ruminating and watching highlights on TV then he's ruminating and marinating in the bathtub, submerged in boiling water.

He entertained the idea of binge eating and binge drinking and wearing the same shirt for seven days straight, but couldn't bring himself to. He may be miserable, but there's no need to be disgusting too.

The landline starts to ring and since he doesn't give out the number it can mean only one thing. Someone is at the front door downstairs and trying to get in. Nicky thinks about for a moment, but decides against it. It's probably Faith, but he doesn't feel like facing her and the rest of the world just yet. Nicky hopes she'll understand and goes back to his ruminating.

Apparently not because once the landline phone ceases to ring, his cell phone starts.

Pressing pause on the remote control, the TV freezes just as an official runs over to Nicky who's curled up on the ground after failing to land right and instead losing control and falling. Looking at the screen of his phone, Nicky is surprised to see its Kelly.

Kelly on the other hand had done well at the Games. In the event finals, Kelly had taken the gold on floor exercise and Kaylie had taken silver, her own throwback to Nationals 2010, but with results in her favor. On uneven bars, Kelly took silver thanks to a tie-breaking calculation that gave Payson the gold, but after four clean routines on four events, Kelly won the all-around gold and Payson took the silver. It's the fifth time in the history of the Games where athletes coming from the same country took first and second in the women's all-around.

Afterwards, Kelly had been absolutely glowing with pride and accomplishment. It made Nicky smile to see her so utterly ecstatic, but also reminded him how stupid it was to think they could possibly be something real. She is and always has been out of his league. This only makes it official.

Caught up in the whirlwind that is the Olympics, they haven't spoken to each other since that night in the ice room and when Nicky boards the very first plane to New York, disregarding the press junkets and bullshit, Nicky made sure things stayed that way. Up until now that is.

"…Hello?"

"Nick, you giant dick. I knew you're in there. Where the hell else would you be? Buzz me in."

Lying there, miserable on the couch, her words hit him and Nicky quickly sits up. "Wait, you're here? As in New York?"

"As in standing on your stoop, dumbass," she says. "Buzz. Me. In. Now."

"No. Just go away," he groans into the phone. He crashes onto his side and shuts his eyes. "I'm not taking visitors at the moment."

"You're not taking visitors at the moment? Who the hell do you think you're talking to?"

"Kelly, please go away," Nicky says. "I said please that time."

"I didn't fly all the way out here to see a fucking musical and decided to visit you on a whim. No. Russo, you don't get to ditch me in London and then tell me what to do after. It doesn't work that way. Now buzz me in or I will find someone else to. Don't test me, Nick."

Giving in to her demands isn't ever fun, but he does. Nicky goes to the intercom and presses the button to let her in. He then unlocks the front door, just making it easier for the dramatic entrance he's sure she already has planned in that twisted head of hers and goes back to sit on the couch. Nicky waits patiently with his hands in his lap and it takes her longer than he'd imagine it to. Right when he thinks she might have backed out, the door creaks open.

Nicky turns and sees her standing there in the doorway. Somehow, he thought winning big at the Olympics and now being the pride of an entire country would make her look different somehow, but she still looks the same. Her dark, touchable brown hair frames her perennially tan face and her hazel eyes are narrowed. The glare isn't as harsh as it usually is and her eyes aren't as beautiful especially with the pity they reflect.

"Wow. How pathetic you look is making it really hard to remember how pissed I am at you."

Her eyes dart to the flatscreen TV when Nicky sees himself there, on the ground and he can't help, but wonder if she means how pathetic he looks onscreen or sitting here in front of her. Before he can ask, Kelly reaches for the remote control and Nicky thinks that might be his answer, but the glances she's throwing him says otherwise.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Deleting this shit," she answers, pulling up the list of recordings.

"No!" Nicky shouts. When he reaches out, Kelly pulls away from him. "Kelly, stop it."

"No, you stop it. How many times have you watched this?" she asks, pointing to the screen with the controller. "An embarrassing and not to mention unhealthy amount of times, right? Honestly, Nick, this is no way to live your life."

"Easy for you to say," he scowls.

With the click of a button, the TV screen goes black and Kelly throws the controller right at him. Nicky is lucky enough to shield his face even though it still hits his forearm and hurts.

"Ouch."

"Good. I'm glad it hurt."

"Why are you being like this?" Nicky groans. "I just got my heart ripped out by the Olympics. And I didn't buzz you in so you can call me pathetic and threaten to delete my recordings and throw things at me. Shouldn't you be out celebrating or something? Look around. I'm fine. I don't need you so you can just go do whatever it is Olympic gold medalists do."

"So this is how it's going to be now?" Kelly asks with her hands propped up on her hips. "Seriously, Nick, don't be a douche."

"Why do you even care, Kelly?" he asks irritably. "Why are you even here right now?"

"Christ. I wish I still had the remote so I can throw it at you again," Kelly hisses. "Do you know what I had to do to chase your sorry ass here?"

"Why?" Nicky asks weakly. "Why are you here? I mean you've made it clear multiple times that we aren't dating. It isn't like you ever loved me or ever really cared—"

"Oh. My. God!" Kelly shouts, throwing her hands up in frustration. With teeth clenched, eyes narrowed and all the energy that tiny body could possibly contain, Kelly spits, "Of course I love you, you self-centered asshole!"

Nicky flinches at the utter distain in her words. "Wh—what?"

"And it makes me feel crazy because it doesn't make sense," Kelly goes on, shouting with tears starting to well in her eyes, "Because you're the most fucked up person I've ever met."

"Well, you have a really fucked up way of showing it," Nicky says sarcastically even though the question on his mind is: _did you just say you love me?_

"Look at you, Nick. You're so afraid of being rejected and now you're using my success as an excuse to do the rejecting. You couldn't even pretend to be happy for me. You didn't even stick around in London. _I _had to hunt you down and _you_ tried to ignore me. The saddest thing about it is that I couldn't enjoy it without you. I never needed someone ever and then you came along and messed me up more than I already was so thanks for that. I hope you're proud of yourself. Say what you want, but this is me doing the rejecting."

Midway through what might be the most words Kelly Parker has ever said to him in one sitting, Nicky sees the way she starts to tremble and more than anything he wants to reach out for her, to first admit that he is indeed a self-centered asshole and then apologize. Before he can say or do anything, Kelly bolts from the apartment and slams the door shut.

Sitting there on the couch, Nicky feels like he's going haywire. All this time he's been downplaying all the good times they've had together, focusing on how she's treated him horribly, but never about how his actions or words affect her. He sits there for an hour, just thinking, before he decides to go after her. Forget giving her time. He needs to get to her. She made him realize that the label had never been there, but the feels had and from both of them.

Before leaving his apartment, Nicky turns the TV back on and looks at the image that first comes up, the recording still paused, him on the ground on worldwide television. Using the remote control, Nicky pulls up the options, chooses delete and it's gone. He doesn't feel any better about it and hopes it's just something that will fade given time.

Nicky shrugs on a jacket, turns out all the lights and grabs his phone to call her, but right as he reaches for the knob, the door slowly creaks open and it's Kelly. He immediately sees that her cheeks may be dry, but her eyes are red and a little puffy. There are few things he hates more than the idea of her crying over him.

"Kelly…I…I was just going to look for you."

"I didn't get far," she says, quieter than normal and also sadder. What he'd give to hear her screaming her lungs out at him. Rubbing her eyes and trying to laugh, Kelly says, "I rode the elevator up and down for the last hour, crying and freaking out your neighbors. I wanted to leave, but I couldn't. My own brand of pathetic, right?"

"No. I'm still more pathetic," Nicky says softly. He braces his hand against doorframe and leans into her a bit. "Look, I'm sorry. You're right about me. I am a self-centered asshole and I am…afraid. If you forgot, I don't have the best track record and you, Kelly Parker, are the world's biggest mindfuck, but still…you had a right to chew me out like that."

"Maybe." There's no hint of triumph in her voice. She just sounds so tired. "But I guess…I think you deserved better from me too. You know, I never thought it—_we_—would get to this point, but…"

"But I messed you up," Nicky smiles slightly, "And here we are."

"Yeah," Kelly says, slightly smiling back. "We're both so fucked up, but we kinda work."

Nervously looking down, Nicky shuffles his feet a bit. "I, uh, I deleted that recording…of me falling."

"Good for you."

"So…how do I do this? Am I supposed to ask you to be my girlfriend for real or something?"

Kelly just laughs at how awkward he still is and forever will be as she slides past him and into his apartment. Without breaking eye contact, Kelly lays her palm flat against the back of the door and pushes it till it's closed, locking it after. She then takes his hand and starts to lead him through his dark apartment and to the only bedroom.

"So I'm guessing this is a yes?"

"Yes, Nick. Now shut up," Kelly says, but even in the dark, Nicky knows she's smiling. He hears it in her voice. She climbs into his bed and Nicky is so happy he finally got his own place and doesn't have to think about another awkward run-in with his dad as he slides beneath the covers and pulls her to his chest.

Choosing to ignore her warning like he so often does, Nicky nestles his nose against her warm neck, her hair tickling his face as he whispers, "I suck at showing it, but I really am proud of you. And I love you so damn much. I can't not love you."

"Nick, that's a double negative," Kelly whispers with nostalgia warming her voice.

"Yeah, but a double negative makes a positive," Nicky lightly argues, "Like us."

In return, Kelly leans in to him and whispers, "Fuck off, cheesy boyfriend. I'm trying to sleep."

Finally. He got her. All of her. Including that elusive heart.

...

**VIII**

_I think I'm a little bit  
A little bit in love with you  
But only if you're a little bit  
Little bit  
Little bit  
In lalalala love with me_

Years later, when Nicky watches her walking down the aisle towards him, there's not a single doubt in his mind. Their fathers cleared their schedules to be here, but when the music swells and Kelly steps out, everyone else in the room fades away. She's all dressed in white, looking like something out of a dream, an angel even, but Nicky knows better. He knows that she's the ultimate wolf in sheep's clothing, often overconfident and a smooth talker, fearless and messed up. All reasons he loves her.

It's funny to think, Carter Nasty Anderson coming to Denver had been the catalyst that brought Nicky to where he is now, standing at the altar, ready to exchange vows with Kelly Parker. What a strange world indeed.

_Fin_

* * *

**Song**: Little Bit – Lykke Li

**From Jess to B**: Again, to reiterate, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BEEZY! Be good! Remember, you're old enough to get arrested for stupid things now. I hope you enjoyed reading this almost as much as you enjoy eating ice cream cake or at least talking about eating ice cream cake.


End file.
